


Not for Her

by olicitea



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Related, F/M, Oops, Riza-centric, Royai - Freeform, basically riza's pov when she was injured, kind of poetic i guess, the royai is there tho dont worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:37:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olicitea/pseuds/olicitea
Summary: He’s looking at her with those eyes - those eyes that she knows so well. The eyes that she has had silent conversations with. The eyes that lose her. The eyes that pull her back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this when i was very sad after finishing fmab for the second time (i cried just as much) and it's basically riza's thoughts when she was injured during the promised day  
> anyway i was feeling poetic so this happened

Her hand is painted red.

  
She’s grasping at her neck, her skin wet and slippery with blood. The crimson liquid is rushing out of her, leaking through her fingers as she clamps her hand down, trying - and failing - to stop the bleeding. It’s soaking her clothes, making her colder than she already is. A freezing claw is gripping her, pinning her in place. She can’t move even if she wants to. It’s near impossible to keep her heavy eyelids from sliding closed. She feels the chilly sweat creep down her face. Her attempt at stopping the blood is as futile as trying to stop a wave from crashing onto the shore. A sickening jolt of nausea settles in her stomach.

Through foggy vision and dizzying thoughts, she looks straight ahead and sees him. His face. A mask of pure shock and horror. He looks more than devastated. He looks broken as he surveys the scene in front of him. She guesses that it looks as bad as it feels.  
It’s hard to understand what’s happening, but she does. Even though it feels like she’s watching herself die, she picks up on what everyone else is saying through the rushing sound of blood in her ears and her own loud heartbeat.   
  
Human transmutation.

She tells him not to do it. Not for her. He can’t. Not now. Not after everything they’ve done to get here. She had always known that there was a high chance she could lose her life on the Promised Day. Mustang knew it too. But it doesn’t seem real. Not now. Not ever.

He’s looking at her with those eyes - those eyes that she knows so well. The eyes that she has had silent conversations with. The eyes that lose her. The eyes that pull her back.

She grits her teeth, a strong metallic taste in her mouth. She does everything she can to stop herself from coughing because she knows - she knows that from that point on her life will be unretrievable. Hell, it already is.

She can’t speak anymore. All she can do is hope. She needs to hope that he is strong enough. Strong enough to leave her behind.

Her gaze is unfocused, her eyes half closed. She vaguely hears someone wondering out loud whether she has already died or not.

She opens her eyes and stares straight at him. At the Colonel. At Roy. With the last bit of strength she has, her gaze hardens. She needs to know that he won’t do this.

Not for her.  
Not for her.  
Not for her.

She catches a glimpse of a shadow above. It’s hard to see. It’s hard to breathe. Her eyes slip shut. Her hand is on the cold floor, sticky with the scarlet substance that surrounds her. No longer trying to hold the blood in.

No longer feeling any warmth.   
It isn’t peaceful. But she hears that the Colonel oblige. He wouldn’t perform human transmutation.

She’s thankful.

It feels as though a millennia has passed since she asked him not to perform the transmutation. Later she would realize it had only been about three minutes.   
She hears his voice. Distant. Panicked. Yelling. Not her name, but her title. Lieutenant. She doesn’t mind.   
The bleeding stops suddenly. She no longer feels like she’s about to die at any second. Now she realizes just how much her neck throbs. She makes a low, pained sound. She hears him say something.

Her eyes open. His relief radiates off of him. He had understood her message.

She loves him for it.  
She loves him.

But that’s not what she says. Now isn’t the time. She feels too lightheaded, too weak, but she’s alive. Maybe it’s the adrenaline that keeps her going. Maybe it was the medical alkahestry that was performed on her. She doesn’t know.

She’s alive and she would keep fighting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> that was shorter than i thought. oh well,  
> leave feedback please!


End file.
